A Gryffindor Augurey
by ykickamoocow111
Summary: In an AU 6th year where Ron didn't hook up with Lavender, Ron and Hermione are on patrol one night when they happen upon an unusual party being held in the Room of Requirement. Written by BlackHawk13 back in 2010 for a R/Hr Big Bang Challenge. I take none of the credit for this story
1. Prologue

As i said in the summary this is NOT my story. I did not write it and i do not take any credit for it. This story was written by Blackhawk13 mid to late 2010. I was a friend of his and i exchanged daily emails with him for over 18 months when in January 2011 (10th was the last day i ever spoke to him) he stopped responding to all communication from myself and everyone else for no reason. 3 months later his email account deactivatived itself due to lack of use. I have always hoped for the best but after so much time it is hard not to fear the worst. In discussion with his former beta **CutewithAcapital-Q **i have decided to post this story of his on this site which was always Joseph's (Blackhawk13) intention before he disappeared. Anyway from this point onwards none of the words mention in this story are mine and all credit must go to Blackhawk13 for his amazing writing ability and his great understanding of the Ron/Hermione relationship.

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Story Notes:

The word "augurey" in the title is a reference to a scene in HBP where Ron's spellcheck quill loses its charm, and seems to have spelled the word "orgy" instead of "augurey".

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**A Gryffindor "Augurey"**

**Prologue – "Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes"**  
Late October, 1996

Harry Potter and Ron Weasley made their way up to Gryffindor Tower following a nighttime Quidditch practice; the team was doing well, and their new temporary Chaser, Dean Thomas, seemed to fit right in. Ron, however, had made a disastrous showing as Keeper during the practice and was completely down on himself. Harry was doing his best to cheer his best friend up, firing off a near-constant barrage of encouragement from the Quidditch Pitch all the way up to the second floor of the castle, and Ron was looking a bit more cheerful than he had at the end of practice. The two friends were just about to take a shortcut through a passage hidden behind a tapestry when they heard their names being called.

"Ron! Harry!" Hermione Granger ran up to meet them, smiling brightly, her warm brown eyes locked on Ron, "How was practice?"

"Horrible," Ron groaned.

"It wasn't that bad," Harry replied, feeling that he wasn't lying since everyone else besides Ron had done just fine, "Ron just gets nervous when he's up there protecting the rings."

"I'm sorry I wasn't there for moral support," Hermione said, frowning slightly. She reached out and patted Ron's arm in a comforting manner. She and Ron had been much more polite and considerate to each other over the last few days, ever since she invited him to be her 'guest' at Professor Slughorn's Christmas party.

"I'm glad you weren't; that way you didn't see how much of a crap Keeper I am," Ron replied, getting down on himself again.

"You're an amazing Keeper, Ron," Hermione corrected him, rubbing her hand up-and-down his arm soothingly, "Gryffindor wouldn't have won the Quidditch Cup without you last year!"

"You mean that?" Ron asked, looking at her with a hopeful expression.

"Of course, I do, Ron," she replied, her smile brightening, "You just let your nerves get the better of you…that's all. If you want, I could research relaxation techniques that might help you calm down when you play."

"You'd do that to help me?" Ron asked, finally breaking into a small sort of smile.

"Of course I would," Hermione responded.

Neither of them seemed to be paying any attention to Harry at this point, and he took that as his cue to leave. Moving aside the tapestry, he disappeared from view into the concealed passageway.

"If you don't mind going to the library with me, we can go look for some books right now." It was now Hermione's turn to look hopeful. She wanted to spend some time alone with Ron instead of in the common room surrounded by Harry and the other Gryffindors.

"Sure," Ron replied, nodding. He, too, was anxious for some alone time. If anyone could make him forget about what a miserable display of keeping prowess he'd put on tonight, it was Hermione.

When Ron agreed to go to the library with her, Hermione nearly cried out in happiness. Instead, she smiled her broadest smile yet and grabbed Ron's hand, leading him off towards the stairs that would lead them up to the fourth floor and the library that awaited them.

As they walked off, Ron and Hermione missed a disgruntled Ginny Weasley leading her boyfriend, Dean Thomas, out from under the tapestry and storming off in the opposite direction. They also didn't see Harry's head pop out from under the tapestry moments later offering a weak apology to Ginny's retreating back.

As Ron went off to the library with Hermione…instead of following Harry behind the tapestry into the hidden corridor…he would never know how close he came to turning the Trio's sixth year into a complete disaster.


	2. Part One – Prefect Patrol

**Part One – "Prefect Patrol"**  
Six Weeks Later…

Ronald Weasley, sixth year Gryffindor student at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry walked down the boys' stairs to the common room of Gryffindor Tower, pinning his shiny scarlet-and-gold prefect's badge to his lapel before buttoning his faded robes over his battered old jeans and flannel shirt.

As he reached the bottom step, he found his best friend and partner-in-prefect-duties, Hermione Granger, standing by the portrait hole, smiling as she waited for him. Ron eagerly returned the smile and made his way across the room to joinher. Ordinarily, Ron would hate wasting a Saturday night doing "school stuff", but being alone with Hermione for three hours made it worth giving up a precious, homework-free weekend night.

On his way to reach Hermione, Ron noticed something odd about the common room for a Saturday night on the verge of curfew: it was conspicuously absent of any students older than a fifth year. Understandably curious, Ron questioned Hermione about it.

"Where is everybody?"

"What do you mean, Ron?" Hermione looked around at the dozens of students whiling away their night around them.

"The older students, Hermione," he explained, "Neville's upstairs writing a letter to his Gran, but the rest of the sixth and seventh years aren't here."

"Well, Harry's with Dumbledore," she replied as she looked around for any sign of the absent older students, "And I suppose Ginny is off with Dean somewhere…"

"Well, they'd better just get backbefore curfew…or I'll give them all detention!" Ron growled, disgruntled at the mention of his little sister and her boyfriend, as opposed to the students actually being out of the Tower as curfew neared.

Hermione rolled her eyes and huffed in annoyance at him. "Honestly, Ron, let it go! Ginny is old enough to make her own decisions about who she dates; you have no businessinterfering."

"I'm her brother," Ron argued, stating the obvious.

"Yes, and as her brother, you should trust her enough to respect her decision," Hermione snapped, "This is just like Fourth Year all over again!"

"What is that supposed to mean?" Ron exclaimed, eyes wide. They'd been getting along so well, and nowall of a sudden she was bringing up Fourth Year? That would inevitably lead somewhere…and to someone…Ron really didn't want to discuss.

"The way you're treating Ginny with Dean is the same way you treated me with Viktor back then," Hermione explained, on the cusp of shouting, "Saying he's too old and that he has an ulterior motive…!"

"This is a completely different situation, Hermione," Ron said, trying not to shout…though her bringing up Krum made it extremely difficult, "Ginny is my sister, and you…well…you're definitely not my sister!"

"Oh, once again, well spotted, Ron!" Hermione snapped, though she blushed when Ron made the point that she was definitely not his sister. She had often wondered and worried that his feelings for her were those of an older brother; that he protected her for the same reason he tried to protect Ginny. She hoped, desperately, that they were on the same wavelength, and he saw her as un-sisterly as she wanted him to. An unmistakable feeling of warmth spread through her at the prospect, but Ron quickly quashed it with his next words.

"And for the record, Hermione," Ron said acidly, "Viktor and Dean are too old and they could have ulterior motives!"

"Ron," she snapped, putting her hands angrily on her hips, "You are an utter prat, do you know that?"

Before Ron could answer her, Hermione turned on her heel and began crawling out through the portrait hole.

"Hey!" Ron shouted, hurrying after her, "We're not finished with this!"

"Oh, yes we are!" Hermione shouted back over her shoulder as she emerged from the hole into the hallway in front of the painting of the Fat Lady, "I'm quite finished, Ronald!"

"Hermione, come on…wait up!" he called after her as he saw her taking off towards the stairs, "We're supposed to patrol together!"

Reminding her of her duty as a school prefect seemed to do the trick, for Hermione stopped in her tracks and waited for Ron to catch her up…though she didn't look the least bit happy about it.

"You are a real piece-of-work, Ronald," she spat once he caught up and, together, they began moving down the staircase towards the fourth floor, where they were slated to begin their patrol, "One minute you say something that's almost sweet and makes me think you might just care about me, and the next minute you null it all out by making a stupid comment about Viktor!"

"I do care about you, Hermione," he said, though his tone was no indicator, "That's the reason I get so worked up when you start talking about Vicky!"

"His name is Viktor, Ron," she replied darkly, completely ignoring his declaration, "And the only reason I brought him up is because you're treating the situation with Dean the same way you treated the situation with him! Don't you see the corollary?"

"Uh…no?" Ron didn't want to admit it, but he wasn't quite sure what 'corollary' meant.

"You didn't want me to date Viktor, and now you don't want Ginny to date Dean. Why is that, Ron?" Hermione was determined to get an honest answer out of him once and for all.

"Because she's my little sister and I'm the only Weasley son left at Hogwarts," Ron explained, causing Hermione to frown as he avoided the part about her, "I have to look out for her…protect her from all those perverted sods who just want to get into her knickers!"

"And Dean is one of those perverted sods?" she asked, arching an eyebrow at him, "You've never spoken badly of him before."

"Maybe not," Ron conceded, "Maybe he's not a pervert, but he isn't nearly good enough for Ginny."

"Then who is good enough to date your sister, Ron?" Hermione asked, knowing that Ginny would be interested in hearing the answer, even if it was second-hand.

"I dunno," he said, shrugging his shoulders and running his fingers through his hair, "Harry, maybe?"

Silence fell between them as Ron and Hermione reached the fourth floor landing. Hermione realized that they had finally reached the root of the issue…at least the issue concerning Ginny and Dean.

"Ron," Hermione began in a softer tone, her anger and frustration starting to abate, "You do realize that Ginny's moved on from her childhood crush on Harry…"

"Well, I didn't until she started dating that git, Michael Corner," Ron replied in a tone that seemed to imply that he didn't like being kept out of the loop, "You have to admit that she's way to good for him!"

"Maybe so, but Michael was her choice and so was Dean," she said, shrugging noncommittally, "And Harry doesn't see her as anything other than your sister, Ron…not yet at least."

"I reckon you're right," he sighed.

Hermione reached over and patted him on the shoulder, "I know you'd like for Harry to some day be an official member of your family…it could still happen you know…once Harry realizes Ginny is a girl and not just a Weasley boy with long hair."

"Maybe we could lock them in a room together until he figured it out," Ron suggested, only half-joking, "I mean…if anyone's going to date her…well…he's the bloke I trust the most."

"As I said, Ron…it could still happen," Hermione repeated, but her tone of voice was such that it was obvious she was about to qualify her statement, "But…you also have to face the possibility that Ginny might wind up with someone else. She's happy with Dean right now. Isn't that enough?"

"I reckon it ought to be," Ron admitted, running his fingers roughly through his hair, "But Harry's a lot better than Dean…I mean, if I really admitted it to myself, he's the only bloke good enough for you, in my opinion."

"I beg your pardon?" Hermione laughed, looking completely taken aback by Ron's statement.

"Come on, Hermione, he's Harry-bloody-Potter...the Boy-Who-Lived," Ron said, as if encouraging her to fall in love with Harry, "He's rich, famous, powerful, he's a natural at Quidditch -…"

"Then maybe you should date him," Hermione scoffed, "Need I remind you that he's also moody, secretive, emotionally closed off, often-times unwilling to listen to his friends let alone authority figures, and much too willing to get himself and us in trouble over and over again."

"But you said yourself that you fancy him," he replied, sounding confused.

"I said no such thing!" she yelled, unable to believe Ron would make such an asinine statement.

"You did so!" Ron urged, "The morning of the Quidditch trials…you said Harry's never been more interesting or more fanciable; then you went on about how he's the Chosen One and battled You-Know-Who and has been persecuted and scarred and how he's gotten tall…I'm tall and I have scars, Hermione, but you don't go around calling me interesting or fanciable!"

Hermione gaped at him in shock. It was obvious that she had inadvertently hurt Ron's feelings back then, and would need to soothe him now.

"Ron, I absolutely do not fancy Harry," she assured him, "All I was trying to do was boost Harry's confidence…trying to make him understand why everyone seems to be so enraptured by him…maybe even get him out there showing interest in girls again."

"You've never done that for me…" he pouted.

Once again, she looked stunned at Ron, then she blushed deeply, "There's a reason for that, you know. To be honest…I don't want you out there showing interest in girls. Why do you think I made such a big deal of you not realizing I was a girl?"

"What? I…"

"I want you out there noticing me, Ron! Me!" Hermione seemed out of breath and her face was bright red. Her mane of frizzy chestnut hair seemed to be even more out of control than usual.

"I do notice you, Hermione," Ron admitted, "And I noticed that you were a girl before Fourth Year rolled around as well."

Hermione shot Ron a look that said she didn't believe him, but he just nodded and continued.

"I always knew," he continued, "I just never realized I was supposed to make a big deal about it. I mean, did you really want me to point out that you were a girl all the time?"

"I didn't need you to point it out," she answered, "I just needed you to acknowledge it."

"I reckon I wasn't comfortable acknowledging it. I mean, the minute I do, you stop being my friend Hermione and start being my girl friend…err…friend-who's-a-girl Hermione," Ron blushed at nearly calling her his girlfriend. He kept his eyes downcast and wouldn't look at her as he spoke.

"Would that really have been so bad?" Hermione asked, blushing as well.

"I would've thought you'd have felt left out if we were all of a sudden two blokes and a girl instead of just three mates like we'd always been," he explained, shrugging slightly.

"How would that be any different than it is now, Ron?" Hermione asked with a plaintive warble in her voice, indicating that she was close to tears, "You and Harry exclude me from so much already!"

"Like what?" Ron asked defensively.

"Oh, just everything!" she exclaimed, tears finally falling as years of pent-up frustration was finally vented, "You and Harry have been thick as thieves since Day One; do you realize how hard I struggled trying to become friends with you? Everything I did just pushed you further away. It took that stupid troll nearly killing me before you'd let me in! And even after that, your friendship with Harry just came naturally, while we've had to fight…literally…to remain friends!"

"It's just easier with Harry," he said matter-of-factly, "He's a bloke so we have a lot of common interests…like Quidditch! You hate Quidditch!"

"I don't hate Quidditch," she retorted, her voice taking on that haughty, superior tone that always led to some of their worst rows, "I just don't understand why you boys treat it like it's the most important thing in your lives!"

"See? This is what comes of acknowledging your girlness," Ron replied heatedly, "You exclude yourself by lumping me and Harry together as 'boys'; where's that leave you? By yourself because you're not a boy! Isn't it better when we're just three mates regardless of boyness and girlness?"

"Regardless of gender, Ron, the three of us are friends, but you still exclude me," Hermione insisted, "How many Weasley jumpers has Harry received in the last five years, and how many have I received?"

"You actually want one of Mum's homemade jumpers?" Ron asked, eyes wide with incredulity, "Merlin, Hermione, I figured you were too good for that."

"What is that supposed to mean, Ronald?" she asked, feeling insulted, "Do you think I'm a snob?"

"I just mean…your parents are well-off…they can afford to buy you nice things," he said and realized almost immediately that he'd once again put his foot in his mouth where Hermione is concerned.

"For your information, Ronald Weasley," she replied, her eyes full of hurt and anger, "I would cherish one of your mother's Weasley jumpers! I'd rather have one of them than a dozen outfits from the finest boutique in Muggle London!"

"Mum will love to hear that," he told her, smiling bashfully, "She's been dying to make you a Weasley jumper for years!"

"Then why hasn't she?" Hermione asked, completely beside herself now.

"I told her not to," Ron admitted, looking down at his feet again, not willing to meet her eyes, knowing there was hurt and sadness lurking in those deep brown orbs that he had once again put there, "I thought you'd be embarrassed if you got one."

"Ron!" she cried in exasperation, "I always felt left out because of that! Everyone I was close to in the Wizarding world had one of your mother's wonderful jumpers except me! You never thought I'd feel excluded?"

"I'm sorry, Hermione, I really am," he said, shame-faced, "I didn't realize…I…I'm sorry. I'll owl Mum in the morning and tell her to make you one this year, alright?"

"Ron, if you don't want me to have one of your mum's jumpers, you don't have to owl her," she said, trying to sound matter-of-fact, but deep down hoping that she'd receive her very own Weasley jumper this Christmas.

"No…now that I know you want one, I want to let Mum know as soon as possible," he replied, wishing he could make up for the last five years of excluding her from something he only now realized she desperately wanted to be a part of, "She's really going to burst her buttons when she finds out she gets to make you a jumper."

Hermione smiled demurely. She was finally going to get her very own Weasley jumper…she could hardly wait until Christmas morning. She was so caught up in the notion of getting the jumper that she almost forgot what she and Ron had been so hotly discussing moments before; but Ron managed to bring her back in his own clumsy fashion.

"So that's why you say we exclude you…because you've never gotten a jumper?"

"What? No, of course not," she countered, surprised that he would think that was the only problem, "You and Harry exclude me in other ways as well. For instance, you two keep secrets from me all the time."

"What secrets?" he asked, agog.

"Well, how many times has Harry had a nightmare and you didn't tell me because he told you not to?" she asked him, her arms crossed stiffly.

"I don't know, Hermione…a fair few, I reckon," Ron admitted, "But believe me, I'd rather not know about them than to have to watch and listen to Harry having them. You want to deal with Harry's bad dreams? Be my guest…but you'll also have to deal with Neville, Dean, and Seamus and their…bodily functions."

"Ron, that's disgusting!" Hermione laughed, relaxing her angry stance a bit.

"Exactly," he replied, flashing her a cheeky grin.

"I suppose you'd enjoy living in my dorm, though," she said, giving him her own cheeky grin, "With Lavender and Parvati in their skimpy nightdresses and their incessant chatter about boys, clothes, boys, hair, boys, makeup, boys, boys, boys, and oh, did I mention boys?"

"Reckon I can do without the chatter," Ron said, looking as though he was picturing the girls' dorm in his mind, "But I wouldn't mind the skimpy nightdresses."

"Now, why is it okay for you to acknowledge that Parvati and Lavender are girls, but it's such a problem for you to show me that courtesy?" Hermione asked rather huffily.

"Why, do you want to wear skimpy nightdresses, too?" he asked, blushing at the image of Hermione in some flimsy, sheer nightgown like the ones in the Muggle catalogues Seamus and Dean brought with them every year…something that showed ample cleavage and lots and lots of smooth, creamy thigh.

"You're avoiding my question, Ron," she said sternly, trying to hide her blush as she thought of Ron looking at her in some of the 'sexy' nightgowns that Lavender and Parvati had been known to wear from time-to-time.

"Parvati and Lavender are not my best friends," Ron stated flatly, "You are. They're girls and everyone sees them that way…especially the blokes…but I don't care because they're not you. But as soon as everyone sees you as a girl, blokes will do as well, and before you know it, you've got some poncey git for a boyfriend, and I've lost you."

Hermione gaped at Ron, unable to believe his words. "How could you lose me, Ron? You're my best friend; no boy will change that. We'll always be friends."

"When I say I'd 'lose you'," he said softly, keeping his eyes glued to the floor, "I mean I'd lose my chance with you; just like I did in Fourth Year."

They stood in silence once again as Hermione took in his words. The fact that Ron wanted a chance with her made Hermione want to climb to the top of the Astronomy Tower and sing at the top of her lungs. A look over at Ron, however, popped her bubble of happiness and quelled her urge to sing.

He looked miserable. Ron's face was still downcast and his eyes were locked on the flagged stone floor that he kept scuffing back-and-forth with his feet. He looked as if he'd lost all hope and Hermione's heart went out to him.

"I won't lie to you, Ron," Hermione began tentatively, "Other boys have taken notice: Terry Boot, Ernie MacMillan, Anthony Goldstein, and Zacharias Smith have all shown me some interest. I've even caught Seamus giving me the once-over once or twice…and I won't even mention the lustful leers from that awful Cormac McLaggen…"

"I'll kill 'em!" Ron growled, finally looking up. He looked angry enough to breathe fire, and Hermione had to fight back a satisfied smile.

"You can't kill every boy who shows me some interest," she said, hoping he'd get the hint that it was him she wanted to show interest in her, "Besides, you have something those other boys don't."

"And what's that?" he asked, understandably curious.

"The inside track," Hermione said simply, her lips turned up at the corners.

"Huh?" Ron was a bit confused by what he assumed was a Muggle figure-of-speech.

"I did ask you to Professor Slughorn's Christmas party, didn't I?" Hermione asked when she realized she needed to spell it out for him, "And you did agree to go, didn't you?"

"Yeah…" Ron said, nodding.

"So, technically, we're going on a date, aren't we?"

"Yeah!" he said it with such enthusiasm and such a big smile crossed his face that Hermione couldn't help feeling her heart swell.

Hermione smiled broadly as Ron beamed at her. "So, as long as you don't do something completely stupid…like snogging Lavender Brown in the common room or something…"

"Even I'm not that big a prat!"

They laughed at the completely ridiculous image of Ron and Lavender sprawled on a couch in the Gryffindor common room, attached, lamprey-like, to each other's mouth, sucking face. Something that absurd could never happen! By the time they stopped laughing, Ron and Hermione had followed their patrol route up to the sixth floor.

"I think we should establish some ground rules for our date," Hermione said in the voice she used when setting up timetables for revising for exams.

"Rules? Bloody Hell!" Ron exclaimed in exasperation.

"There you go," she said quickly, smiling, "Rule #1: No swearing."

"Come on, Hermione," he pleaded, "You know the sort of prats who get invited to those 'Slug Club' parties…I'm sure I'm going to have to swear at someone!"

"Rule #2: Best behavior," she went on, ignoring him, "This is a date, Ronald, so I expect you to act accordingly. Rule #3: No fighting. I don't care who they are, Ron! No fighting at all…not even if it's McLaggen!"

"He's a pervy git, Hermione!" he exclaimed, trying to make her understand, "You said yourself he was leering at you! The Conjunctivitis Curse will teach him to leer at my…err…you."

"No spells either, Ron," she said, trying to hide her joy at him slipping and almost calling her his, "No wand-play at all. That's Rule #4."

"Bloody girls and their barmy rules," Ron grumbled as they continued to patrol along the sixth floor corridor.

"Thank you for reminding me, Ron," Hermione said with a wry grin, "Since you've finally acknowledged that I'm a girl, I expect to be treated as one on our date…Rule #5."

"What does that even mean?" Ron asked humorlessly.

"Surely someone in your family has told you how to treat a girl on a date," Hermione replied, "Perhaps not the twins or Percy…but certainly Bill or Charlie or your father must have said something…or maybe your mother. If you didn't pay attention, perhaps you should send an owl and ask them to repeat the lesson. I'm certainly not going to tell you what you should do on the date. Putting forth a little effort into this date will be good for you."

The fact that, by establishing rules for the date, she was telling him what he should and shouldn't do on the date seemed to escape Hermione's notice.

"You're turning this into homework, Hermione," Ron huffed, whinging a bit.

"Ron…I don't want this to be like homework…I'm sorry," she frowned, "It's just…it's our first date. I want it to be special and I want us to enjoy ourselves. Don't you?"

"Well, yeah…of course," he nodded.

"Then you'll do this for me? You'll put the effort in?" she looked hopefully at him.

"Yeah…" he sighed, nodding his head in defeat.

"Good!" she smiled happily, stepping in and giving him a quick hug, "Who knows, Ron…? If the night goes well, I might be inclined to go on a second date with you…though I insist that you ask me out next time. Rule #6: Learn to take the initiative."

Ron sighed and rolled his eyes as they concluded their patrol of the sixth floor and made their way up to the seventh. Talk of rules for their date continued (Rule #7: Absolutely no talk of Quidditch; Rule #8: No alcohol; Rule #9: No talking while eating) and eventually passed on to talk of wardrobe.

"I'm actually rather excited to see you in your new dress robes," she said as they moved past the entrance to Dumbledore's office, "Not that I didn't think your old robes were…interesting…"

"My old robes were hideous!" he groaned, remembering the maroon-and-lace hand-me-down nightmare he reluctantly wore to the Yule Ball, "The ones Fred and George gave me are much better! I still can't believe they did that…I mean, they're never nice to me. I keep expecting some kind of trick…like I'll put on the robes and turn into a giant canary!"

Hermione laughed at the imagery of Ron transforming into a big yellow bird and he couldn't help but chuckle along with her.

"You did try them on, didn't you…and nothing happened?"

"Well, yeah," he said, nodding, "But it would be just like Fred and George to jinx the robes so they only do it when I'm wearing them at an actual party."

"You do have a point," Hermione laughed, "If you like, I can take a look at them and see if I can find any hidden spells that have been cast on them."

"Brilliant!" Ron said with a broad smile, "With you on my side, whatever the twins did to my robes won't stand a chance."

Hermione smiled and blushed at Ron's words. This was what she liked most about being a prefect; not the prestige or the added responsibility or the respect of the other students…this: getting to spend a few hours alone with Ron, talking and getting to know each other better. She loved Harry to death, but he dominated their attention when he was around; they were always so worried about Voldemort and the war that she and Ron had to put their own wants and needs aside. But here, patrolling the halls…without Harry…it was all about them and it was very nice.

"So, what color are your robes? Maybe I'll get robes that match…although I was thinking of going with red since it is for a Christmas party…" Hermione trailed off as she heard Ron chuckling at her. "What?" she asked, looking disgruntled.

"You sound like Lavender and Parvati," Ron laughed, "Going all mental over clothes."

"I do not sound like them!" she huffed, stomping her foot.

"Sure you do…but it's cute when you do it," he said, smiling shyly.

"Cute?" she squeaked, blushing deeply.

"Yeah," he replied, blushing as well. Ron couldn't believe he said that to her…though he really did think she was cute. Still, admitting it was a bit embarrassing, so he changed the subject back to clothes, "They're dark blue, by the way…my robes that is."

"Oh, really?" she was starting to sound excited again, "Those will go very well with your eyes." She blushed again as she realized that she actually did sound like her roommates. Ron was smirking at her, so she scowled at him. "Shut up."

They fell into a somewhat comfortable silence for a few minutes as they patrolled until Ron spoke again, breaking it.

"Why do you need new dress robes?" he asked, "I mean, the blue ones you have are…they make you look…they're nice."

He grimaced at the aborted attempt at a compliment. The dress robes she wore in Fourth Year were beautiful and they made her look gorgeous, but he couldn't tell her that. After all, he was still slightly embarrassed from calling her earlier clothes-inspired rambling "cute".

"Well," she replied, happy that Ron was at least trying, "They also no longer fit, you see. It's been two years and I've grown a couple of inches and…filled out…a bit."

They both blushed at the mention of her filling out. Ron had seen her in a swimming costume over the summer at the Burrow, and he knew for a fact that Hermione had filled out considerably, not merely "a bit".

That first day, seeing her in the pond in the Burrow's back garden, Hermione's filled-out proportions had forced Ron to remain in the deeper part of the pond until his embarrassing erection went away. That night he'd wanked a fair few times to mental images of Hermione in…and out of…her tight red swimming costume.

"You look good in red," he squeaked, his voice cracking embarrassingly.

"You think so?" she was surprised…but incredibly pleased…that he would make such a declaration, "Then it's settled; red dress robes, it is!"

Ron smiled and Hermione smiled back until they were both overcome with embarrassment and looked away from each other. They had stopped walking without realizing it, so they returned to their patrol. This time when the silence was broken, it was Hermione who broke it.

"There is another reason I want new dress robes," Hermione said, unsure if she had the courage to reveal the truth to Ron.

"What's that?" Ron asked, curious.

"I wanted the robes for our first date to be robes only you had seen me in," she confessed, "A dress that's just for you."

"I…you…really?" he stammered, "Just for me?"

"Is there something wrong with me wanting to look nice just for you?" she asked, blushing.

"N-no…of course not…I just…" he seemed to be searching for the right thing to say, failing miserably, "Cheers, Hermione."

She smiled at Ron and moved a little closer to him as they walked down the corridors of the seventh floor on their way back towards Gryffindor Tower. They were so close that their hands kept brushing together as they walked.

Hermione wasn't sure who started it, but they started taking turns extending their fingers so they'd brush more definitely against each other. This continued for several minutes until Ron captured her fingers in his hand, making her gasp.

From that point on, Ron and Hermione walked hand-in-hand. They patrolled in silence but kept stealing furtive glances at each other and smiling happily. For the first time in quite some time, Ron and Hermione were content…both with themselves and with each other.

Ron and Hermione were about halfway between the entrance to Dumbledore's office and the portrait of the Fat Lady hiding the entrance to Gryffindor Tower when a green door suddenly appeared about ten feet in front of them in the wall across from the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy…a wall that had been previously blank.

"The Room of Requirement?" Hermione looked dumbfounded as the door appeared completely, "Ron, did you…?"

Before Hermione could ask Ron if he had somehow summoned the room into being without first walking in front of it three times, the door opened and loud music and other strange noises could be heard from within. They were just about to step up and investigate when a very flustered-looking Colin Creevey exited the room and closed the door.

"Colin?"

At the sound of Hermione's voice, the nervous-looking fifth year jumped nearly a foot and backed up quickly against the wall, his eyes wide and his face pale as he took in the sight of the two prefects standing before him.

"Hermione…Ron…h-hi! W-what are you doing here…i-isn't it past curfew?" Colin was normally very high-strung and he seemed even moreso now.

"It is past curfew, Colin," Hermione said, nodding. She let go of Ron's hand and approached the younger boy, "Ron and I are on prefect duty, patrolling the halls. But what are you doing here?"

"Oh, I was just heading back to the Tower. I was…uh…I lost track of time while I was working on some Herbology homework," Colin replied, obviously lying, "I was just heading to bed."

"Colin, why are you lying to us?" Hermione asked, calling him on his dishonesty. Before he could answer, though, Ron asked his own question.

"I thought I heard voices in the Room of Requirement, Colin; is that where all the missing Gryffindors are?"

"Missing Gryffindors?" Colin repeated Ron's words, squeaking as he spoke.

"The sixth and seventh years, Colin," Ron explained, his voice rising along with his temper, "Do you realize how much bloody trouble you all are in?"

"Language, Ron," Hermione scolded him out of habit.

"Sorry, Hermione," Ron replied, giving her an honest look that told her he really meant it.

She flashed him a quick smile before turning back to Colin. "Ron's right…the whole lot of you are going to get a detention for this."

"And once McGonagall finds out that we handed out detentions to more than a dozen fellow Gryffindors all at the same time," Ron continued, his voice harsh…so unlike his usual demeanor, "She's going to want details…and she'll probably dock us every single House point we've got!"

"No! You can't tell Professor McGonagall!" Colin exclaimed, looking positively frightened at this point, "That's why Cormac didn't invite you in the first place!"

"What?" Ron and Hermione shouted at the same time.

Colin slapped his hands over his mouth, blushing embarrassedly as he realized he had said too much.

"What is going on, Colin?" Hermione asked sternly, in her best emulation of Professor McGonagall.

"Yeah, what didn't that git McLaggen invite us to?" Ron asked, eyes narrowed.

"It's a party," Colin confessed, knowing he was caught and there was no way around it, "Cormac didn't invite either one of you because he knew you would go to Professor McGonagall if you found out, Hermione; and he figured you would tell Hermione if you knew, Ron. He only told me about it because he wanted me to take pictures of the whole thing."

"What about the seventh year prefects?" Hermione asked, her voice somewhat bitter. She didn't like being thought of as someone who would automatically report students for having a party. Of course, she'd have to report them now…it was very nearly midnight….well after curfew.

"They're in there," Colin admitted, "They're not as strict as you are, Hermione."

Ron scowled at Colin; he knew the younger boy's words would undoubtedly hurt Hermione's feelings. She was a stickler for the rules, sure, but she didn't like being thought of as some kind of junior McGonagall. Ron hated it when he hurt Hermione's feelings, and he absolutely despised anyone else hurting her feelings.

"They'll be lucky to still have their badges when this is all over with," Ron growled, glaring menacingly at Colin, causing the boy to cower away from him, "Get back to the Tower, Colin. Now."

"Okay…thanks," Colin said, smiling anxiously, "I was heading back there anyway to get more film. Be right back!"

"No, Colin…go back to the Tower and stay in the Tower," Ron clarified, doing his best not to lose his temper at the squirrelly fifth year.

"Oh…okay…bye," Colin waved awkwardly and left, hurrying off down the hall towards Gryffindor Tower. Ron watched him go and waited until he was sure the younger boy was out of earshot before he spoke again.

"Can you believe him?" Ron said in exasperation, "As if we'd just let him nick back to his dorm for more film so he could return to the party!"

"I'm sorry, Ron," Hermione sniffed. It was only then that he realized she was crying.

"Sorry? For what?" he thought that he should take her into his arms and comfort her…what's more, he really wanted to…but he didn't. He was too shy…too unsure of their newfound closeness, so he settled for once again taking her hand.

"I know how getting invited to things like this party is important to you," she said shakily, not looking at him, "You're being left out, just like with the Slug Club…only now you're being excluded because of me."

"Hermione…"

"They didn't want me at the party, and they knew you'd never leave me behind if you were going, so they just didn't invite you. For all my talk of you and Harry excluding me from things, the truth is you really do make a point of including me in so much…and now you're being excluded because of it. I'm so sorry, Ron."

She started to sob and despite the potential for awkwardness, he knew he had to hug her. Tentatively at first, Ron stepped closer and put his arms around Hermione. She stiffened for a moment – no doubt shocked by the caring gesture from a boy she had once accused of having the emotional range of a teaspoon – and then sank fully into the embrace, burying her face in his chest.

"Hermione, do you really think I'd go to some stupid party that a git like McLaggen would throw?" he asked as he tightened his arms around her and rested his chin on the top of her head…noting how well they fit together, "Slughorn's parties have you…and they have Harry…and they even have Ginny; I'm being excluded from partying with the three people I'm closest to by Slughorn…that's why I get resentful about the Slug Club."

"Oh," she said softly, her voice muffled by his robes.

"You're not at McLaggen's party," Ron said, slowly running a hand up and down her back in a comforting manner while his other hand was buried in her bushy chestnut curls, "Without you, it wouldn't be a party anyway."

She looked up at him and smiled. Her eyes were red and her nose was running and her cheeks were tear-streaked, but her smile was brilliant, and Ron decided right then-and-there that this hugging thing was something he could definitely get behind. Anything that could make Hermione smile at him like that was definitely a good thing.

"Are you ready to crash the party?" he asked, his blue eyes twinkling mischievously.

"Ron, there is no way we're going to that party," she said, her voice regaining some of its sternness as she started scolding him, "It's against the rules, for one thing."

"Exactly," Ron replied with a devilish grin as he stepped away from her and approached the green door. It had yet to fade away, so the Room of Requirement must have known they would need to enter, "We've got a party to break up and a fair few detentions to hand out."

"Ron, we don't have to do that," Hermione said, her tone changing from stern to defeated in an instant, "People already dislike me for trying to enforce the rules…you don't want them to treat you that way, too. Let's just go back to the common room."

"Who are you, and what have you done with Hermione Granger?" Ron asked, looking at her in disbelief.

"Oh, ha-ha," Hermione rolled her eyes and turned to walk back to Gryffindor Tower, "Let's go."

"No, I'm serious, Hermione," he said, grabbing her hand so she couldn't walk away, "This isn't like you. You don't just roll over like this; where's the fire…where's the fight…where's my Hermione?"

"I…" she was stunned by his words, and couldn't think of what to say.

"Hermione, look, if we look the other way and let this pass, they're going to think they can get away with this whenever they want. And if they get caught and McGonagall finds out we knew and just let it happen…well, if I'm going to lose my badge, it's not going to be for those idiots in there," he said, pointing at the door, "I'm not saying we have to hand out detentions to everybody if you don't want, but it's our duty to end the party. Besides, if I know McLaggen, he's got more than just butterbeer on the drinks table."

She smiled at his impassioned speech. He gave her strength as he always seemed to do, and her confidence returned in an instant. "I always knew you'd live up to your responsibility as a prefect one of these days."

He returned her smile, squeezing her hand, "Had to happen sooner or later, yeah?"

"Yes, it did," she nodded squeezing his hand back and then lacing her fingers together with his. The words had not been said, but there was a definite feeling that it was now the two of them…Ron and Hermione…a team…partners…willing to go up against whatever they had to face out there, so long as they did it together. She wouldn't have it any other way. "Ready, Prefect Weasley?"

"Ready, Prefect Granger."

They opened the door and stepped inside the Room of Requirement intent on breaking up the party and dealing with the room full of rule-breakers; the truth was, however, that they were nowhere near ready for what they found on the other side of that door.


	3. Part Two Beyond the Green Door

**Part Two – "Beyond the Green Door"**

A wizard wireless was set up in the corner, turned up to its maximum volume, belting out contemporary Wizarding music akin to Muggle Rock-'n-Roll. There was a table set up for snacks and sweets, including rock cakes, prawn-flavored crisps, chocolate biscuits, cauldron cakes, éclairs, pumpkin pasties, and treacle tarts. There was a table of completely nothing but butterbeer, and just as Ron predicted there was also a table full of half-empty bottles of Firewhiskey.

However, that was not what drew their attention and made them regret entering the room. That distinction belonged to the mass of writhing flesh occupying the center of the Room of Requirement.

Almost every single member of the sixth and seventh year Gryffindor classes…nearly fifteen students altogether…were on the floor, naked or nearly-so, engaged in various forms of sexual intercourse. And in the center of all this debauchery was the perverted ringleader, Cormac McLaggen, himself.

However, Ron and Hermione's attention was drawn away from McLaggen by a flash of red hair off in the far corner of the room. There, Dean Thomas was busily engaged with none other than…

"Ginny?"

At the sound of her name, Ginny pulled away from her boyfriend and looked up. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were glazed as she gave an intoxicated smile; whether she was drunk on sex or actual alcohol was yet to be determined. Ginny waved jerkily at them and then seemed to forget about the two new arrivals as she turned her attention back to Dean, more interested in sex than in her brother and his best friend.

"What the bloody Hell is going on here?" Ron yelled, averting his eyes from the sight of his sister being defiled, but everywhere he turned there were more people having sex.

His head was tingling and he felt a bit in a fog as he tried to process what was going on around him. Of course, there was also a tingling occurring below his waist, accompanied by a significant swelling and tenting of his denims beneath his robes.

"Hermione, do you have any idea what we're supposed to do here?" What to do when you find more than a dozen members of your House involved in an orgy in a secret room was never covered in the prefects' briefing during the journey to school on the Hogwarts Express.

"I…I don't know, Ron…" Hermione tried not to watch her close friend Ginny having sex in front of her, but her brain didn't seem to want to work. She was feeling remarkably lightheaded and there was a tingling feeling between her thighs, "I definitely wasn't expecting this when Colin said there was a party going on in here."

Ron nodded dumbly, his body definitely reacting to the orgy going on all around them. He knew he should be furious that Dean would bring Ginny to this type of party, but he could only feel jealousy that his sister had lost her virginity before he had. He turned towards Hermione and felt his manhood throb so hard at the sight of her that he nearly exploded in his pants.

"Er-my-knee…?"

"Yes, Ron?" she turned to face him and gasped loudly as a sudden blast of heat and wetness exploded between her thighs. Hermione wished she was the one having sex instead of Ginny, though the idea of being with Dean did nothing for her. However, the redhead standing in front of her was another matter entirely; she had the incredible urge to strip Ron naked and have her way with him.

"'Mione…" Ron said huskily, his voice thick with lust. He licked his lips and took a step closer to her, his erection pointing straight at her, though hidden by his school robes.

"Ron…" Hermione's own voice was just as husky as Ron's and she was mesmerized by the way he licked his lips. She stepped closer, wanting to be the one to lick his lips.

He pulled her to his body and held her tight. She couldn't help the moan that escaped when she felt his hardness press against her stomach. Hermione knew what it was, though she'd never actually seen one before – unless she counted the glimpses she caught of the boys having sex all around her…and she didn't. She wanted Ron's to be the first one she experienced in any way…and she wanted that experience to happen here, tonight.

"Ron…" she whimpered, trying to tell him how badly she wanted him and how she was his for the taking…but he cut her off with a soul-searing kiss…her first real kiss…with the boy she wanted to have all her firsts with.

Ron put everything he could into the kiss. He had never before in his life kissed a girl, and it should have been clumsy and awkward, but there was something driving him…some sort of instinct that seemed to be telling him what to do and how to do it.

He kissed Hermione's lower lip ever so gently…that lip that he'd seen her worry between her teeth oh so many times in the past…that puffy lower lip he had longed to taste. He parted his lips and slowly began to suck on her lower lip with a light pressure, moving his own lips back and forth.

When his tongue slipped out and brushed teasingly over her lips, Hermione gasped in surprise but quickly recovered, opening her mouth and allowing him full access to her. The tip of Ron's tongue brushed against her own and a shiver ran up and down her spine. As his tongue entered her mouth more fully and began writhing against her own wriggling tongue, the shiver turned into a full-body tremor as passion and desire started to overpower her.

Hermione had no conscious knowledge of how it happened, but when they broke apart from the kiss, her robes had been completely unsnapped and Ron's arms were around her inside the robes, running his hands up and down her back.

She thrilled to the feeling of Ron's hands one layer closer to actual contact with her skin, and Hermione pushed herself against him so that his hard-on would dig even deeper into her stomach. Hermione felt herself almost faint when Ron latched his lips onto her neck and began sucking.

Ron slid his hands up under Hermione's blouse, desperate to feel her soft, smooth skin with his large, calloused hands. He bit the soft skin of her neck, leaving a mark that declared her as his. His head was foggy and his body almost seemed to be moving of its own accord, but one thing Ron did know was that he wanted Hermione…in every possible meaning of the word.

Ron's long fingers splayed across her back, brushing over the soft cotton material of her bra. Goosebumps popped up on her skin as he caressed her, and Hermione wished that her entire body could feel his flesh caressing it.

"Mmmm…mine," Ron moaned, bringing his mouth off her neck and sucking on the lobe of her ear, "My 'Mione…"

"God yes!" Hermione gasped, her whole body reacting to him. Her nipples were hard and aching to be touched as her breasts pressed against his firm chest. Her knickers were absolutely drenched as her most intimate of places declared its desire for the boy before her. She wanted to be Ron's and Ron's alone.

She whimpered sadly as his hands slipped out from under her blouse and he pulled his arms from around her, placing his hands on her shoulders. He looked deeply into her brown eyes and she gazed back into the blue depths of his own passion-filled eyes. Words were unnecessary as an agreement was made between them…a declaration from the deepest parts of their souls.

Ron pushed the black school robes off Hermione's shoulders, allowing them to pool at her feet. With nervous fingers, she reached up and undid the tarnished silver snaps of Ron's robes before pushing them off his shoulders as well, allowing her hands to linger there, caressing the strong muscles she found beneath his shirt…no doubt honed to perfection by Quidditch…a sport she would never again call "stupid".

He reached up and caressed her face, causing her to smile brightly at the tender way he touched her…reverently…lovingly. His fingers moved down to the top button of her blouse and he arched an eyebrow at her as if asking permission and she nodded determinedly as her own fingers began a similar task on his own shirt.

In less than a minute, their shirts were gaped open as all the buttons had been undone. Although she had seen Ron topless before, during their summers at the Burrow, the expanse of muscled flesh that peeked at her from inside his shirt made her feel as if she were on fire. The act of exposing that flesh to the light, though she had seen it bare before, made it seem forbidden…taboo…and that made the sight all the more intoxicating.

The strip of smooth, unblemished flesh that was now exposed to Ron's view made him weak in the knees. From her neck to her navel Ron could see the perfection of Hermione's body…the curvy fullness of her breasts, the slight swell of her stomach…it was like heaven to him. His only objection was the white cotton bra that hampered his view only slightly.

Together, as one, they pushed the uniform tops from each other's shoulders, allowing them to fall to the floor atop their bundled robes. There would be no turning back; that much was certain. Tonight Ron and Hermione would claim each other as lovers and neither would regret that decision.

Ron's lips found Hermione's again and they kissed hungrily; lips, teeth, and tongues working together to bring each other to here-to-fore unimagined heights of passion and pleasure and lust. Hermione's hands roamed over Ron's body…from his strong shoulders, down his powerful arms, and across his muscled chest.

Ron whimpered into her mouth as Hermione's fingers traced the course of the brain scars left over from their misadventure in the Department of Mysteries last year. Never before had the scars brought him any amount of pleasure, but as Hermione's delicate fingers danced over them, nothing but pleasure filled Ron's mind, body, and soul.

He kissed his way to her ear, sucking at the sensitive spot behind her lobe, his own hands moving tentatively over her body…stroking her shoulders, rubbing her arms, and then moving to gently cup the full breasts encased by her white cotton bra.

Hermione was unable to stifle her moans – not that she wanted to – as Ron kissed his way from the spot behind her ear, down to the junction of her neck and shoulder. His lips followed her collarbone to the hollow of her throat where he kissed and sucked gently.

His hands on her breasts were gentle and reverent as he cupped them and hefted the weight of the swollen, sensitive globes. His teeth nipped playfully at her neck, causing her to gasp before once again moaning as his thumbs brushed across her erect nipples through the soft material of her bra.

Ron squeezed her breasts and pressed them together as he began to trail tender, loving kisses from her throat down her breastbone to the deep valley of cleavage that was made even deeper by Ron pressing her breasts together. He buried his face in the cleavage, kissing, sucking, and nipping at the smooth, tender flesh that smelled of the unusual fragrance he had given her for Christmas last year.

"Oh, Ron…!" Hermione ran her fingers through the soft locks of Ron's red hair, moaning in pleasure at the tantalizing things he was doing to her breasts.

But suddenly, something seemed wrong. She could feel Ron's hands and mouth on her…he was now sucking at her nipples through her bra, taking each one into his mouth in turn, his hands moving down to caress her hips and squeeze her bum. But she could feel a second set of lips on her back…kissing her shoulder blade…and a second set of hands, too, were now fumbling with the hook-fasteners of her bra.

"Ron!"

Her voice was frantic as she called him and it pulled him out of the pleasure-induced euphoria he was in. He looked up at her, concern for her above all else crossing his features, and then suddenly he was angry.

"What the Hell are you doing?"

Ron stood to his full height and pulled Hermione to him, pulling her away from the hands and lips that had been, if Hermione was honest about the way it felt, violating her. She turned and gasped at what she saw.

"Harry?"

Hermione's hand flew up to cover her breasts from view, and Ron immediately moved her behind him to protect her more fully. He wanted no one touching her that way…no one but himself.

"I asked you a question, Harry," Ron said with menace in his voice. Hermione looked up, shocked that he could sound that way when talking to their best friend.

"Joining the fun," Harry said with a drunk-looking smile on his face. He was completely dressed except for the shirt that lay at his feet, "You guys started without me."

Colin Creevey must have come back when Harry entered the Room of Requirement, because the fifth year was in the room once again, happily snapping pictures. The flash from the wizard camera was enough to distract them for a moment...and allow Harry to make a move.

Harry stepped up to them and did something that neither Ron nor Hermione ever expected. He reached up and caressed Ron's cheek and then leaned up as if to kiss his best mate on the mouth.

"What the Hell?" Ron squeaked awkwardly at Harry's advance and backed up rapidly, "What're you doing? I'm not a poof!"

"We're the Golden Trio," Harry said, the odd smile still spread across his face, "Everyone expects us to share…"

"The Hell they do," Ron snapped, his anger at the prospect of sharing Hermione with anybody overcoming his discomfort with Harry's advances on him, "I'm not sharing Hermione with anyone, Harry…not even the bloody Boy-Who-Lived! Hermione is mine!"

"And Ron's mine," Hermione averred, finally finding her voice as she stepped out from behind Ron, her arms folded across her chest, "I'm sorry, Harry. We're not going to do this with you."

Harry frowned for a second at their rebuffing of him. However, it didn't last long. He looked around the room and saw many more opportunities to expend the lust roiling through his body. He began to undo his denims and moved further into the room as Ron and Hermione backed away from him.

"Hermione…I want you so bad," Ron said, looking deeply into her eyes. His head, which had seemed foggy before, was starting to clear, "But not here…not like this."

"I agree, Ron," Hermione replied, as she, too, was starting to think clearly again, "Maybe if we had someplace private…"

A door suddenly appeared in the wall next to them. They looked at each other and both seemed to have the same thought.

"You don't suppose…?"

"It is the Room of Requirement, Ron. We require privacy…and I think it's providing it for us."

"Wicked!"

Ron and Hermione took one, final look back at the Gryffindor orgy taking place before them. Harry was now completely naked and moving purposefully towards Ginny and Dean.

"That pervy git!" Ron growled, starting to move towards the center of the room to grab Harry before he reached his little sister. It was bad enough she was shagging her boyfriend; she didn't need the added company.

"Ron, no…come on," Hermione grabbed his arm and dragged him through the new door.

"Hermione!" he yelled once they were in the new room and the door had been closed, shutting them off from the carnal cavalcade they had nearly been a part of.

"Ron, listen to me…please!" she begged, "I think I know what's going on."

"What? You do? How?" he looked completely dumbfounded as he gazed down at her.

She blushed and looked away, refusing to meet his eyes. "There's a book…in the Restricted Section. I found it in Fourth Year when I was looking for ways to help Harry with the First Task. The book wasn't going to be the least bit helpful to him but…well…I was intrigued, so I read it."

"What book? Hermione what are you talking about?"

"_The Arcane Encyclopedia of Carnal Spells, Rites, Rituals and Potions – 1862 Edition_," she said, her whole body blushing, "It's a book about…well…I think the title says it all."

"Carnal…you mean, like, sex?" he asked, stunned.

"Of course I mean sex!" she snapped, not out of anger, but embarrassment, "Sorry…"

"Why did you read it?" Ron asked as suddenly a notion hit him that made his stomach drop, "Hermione, you and Krum didn't…?"

"What? Oh! God, no!" Hermione exclaimed, "Ron…I was fifteen and I just found a very…naughty…book in the Hogwarts library! Of course I read it! I mean, wouldn't you?"

"I dunno," he shrugged, "Were there pictures?"

She blushed again; in fact, it seemed as though she couldn't stop blushing and just kept getting deeper and deeper red. "Lots and lots of pictures…moving pictures…"

"And this book is in the library?" Ron suddenly seemed very interested.

"Actually…I think McLaggen might have it," Hermione said, looking up at him, "I think he used some of the spells in the book to turn this party into that…that…carnival of flesh out there."

"Really?"

"Yes, Ron…there's a spell…Desirus Indomitus…the Uncontrollable Lust spell," she explained, "It's supposed to remove the inhibitions from the people it's cast upon. I think he cast the spell on the whole room, so anybody coming in would be overcome with lust. It's why we…uh…you know…"

"Lost our heads?" he said, supplying her with a nice euphemism for what they had done.

"Exactly," she said nodding, folding her arms across her chest to cover her bra and what lay beneath. Hermione was having a hard time looking him in the eye as she thought about what they had done…and how it had felt.

"Then why are we the only ones thinking clearly now?" he asked in earnest.

"Well…there is a possibility…"

"I'm listening…"

"The 1862 Edition doesn't say, but the 1965 Edition…" Hermione was worried she was about to lose him as her explanation became more complex.

"Wait…there's two books now?" Ron looked confused.

"Well…you see…the copy in the library is over two hundred years old," she explained, trying to avoid his eyes, "I was…curious…to see if anything new had been added. It turns out the book went out of print in 1965, but I managed to find a copy of the final printing…"

"Uh huh…and…?" he smirked at her as he pictured goody-two-shoes Hermione Granger buying a magical sex book.

"Stop smirking at me, Ronald!" she snapped, finally looking at him, "It just so happens that later editions did include new information. For instance, the Desirus Indomitus was, for centuries, thought to be a spell that would just have to run its course…which could be from several hours to several days, depending on whether or not other spells were used to…enhance…the participants and their endurance. As you can imagine, after a few hours, friction would cause chafing to be a problem…not to mention fatigue…"

"Hermione…you're rambling…"

"Sorry…" Hermione took a breath and tried to gather her thoughts, "Later editions of the book reveal that one sure way to counteract the Desirus Indomitus is for a declaration of true love to be made. True love will always conquer over lust, you see."

"True…true love?" Ron squeaked as he spoke.

"Yes, Ronald…true love."

"So you're saying that we…that I…that you…"

"You called me yours," she reminded him, "And I said you were mine. Ordinarily, those statements wouldn't mean much without some sort of magical binding spell to back them up…but if two people are truly in love…such a declaration could be almost unbreakable."

"If that were true…Hermione are you in love with me?" he looked at her, his blue eyes seeking the answer within the warm chocolate brownness of her own eyes.

"Are…are you in love with me?" she asked him, keeping her eyes locked on his.

"Hermione…"

"Ron, please…for once in our lives we need to be honest with each other," Hermione sounded desperate…as though she needed him to answer first…to give her the courage to respond in kind.

Ron looked down. After everything they had said and done…despite the proof that was staring him in the face…he was still afraid. She could still turn him down…could tell him she only wanted friendship. No! Not after everything that happened. There was no way Hermione Granger did that and said those things about a friend!

"Hermione, I've never been in love before," he confessed, "But if what I feel for you isn't love, then actually being in love will probably kill me. The thought of you with other men hurts me, Hermione…and actually seeing you with another bloke…it's the worst pain I've ever felt."

Ron felt a weight lift off his heart as he said those words to Hermione. She could still turn him down, but at least he'd taken the chance…taken the initiative…and told her the truth of how he felt.

Tears were pouring down her cheeks as Ron made his confession…as he revealed his true heart to her. "Oh, Ron…!" she sobbed and threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and burying her face in his naked, muscular chest, "Ron…I love you, too! So very, very much! I love you so much that I really don't have the words!"

He wrapped his arms around her and held her tight, burying his face in her bushy brown hair, inhaling her scent and just holding her tight, their nearly-naked torsos causing electrical charges to run rampant along their bodies every place their bare flesh touched.

"So…this is why we're in here…thinking for ourselves…instead of out there…shagging each other rotten…because we're in love?" he asked with a wry grin.

She slapped him on the shoulder lightly and smiled up at him, "Would you prefer we go back out there, knowing that Harry's got his eye on both of us?"

"Eurgh! No thanks!" Ron said, making a disgusted face, "I never would have suspected that Harry swung both ways!"

"Ron…honestly!" Hermione clucked her tongue at him, "Harry isn't like that…it's the spell! I told you…it removes all inhibitions. Harry loves us both very much…but with his inhibitions removed, he doesn't realize that his feelings for us are fraternal, not romantic."

"Wait…so…every bloke out there could be just as happy shagging each other?" he asked, looking even more disgusted now.

"They could," she nodded, "If there weren't an abundance of girls out there…in fact, if there weren't a bunch of boys out there…well…I don't suppose you noticed that some of the girls were…with…each other?"

"Uh…" Ron blushed.

"I'll take that as a yes," Hermione said a bit huffily, "My point is the spell is doing this to them. Once it wears off, everyone will be back to normal."

"Thank Merlin," Ron sighed. This drew a confused look from Hermione, so he explained his remark, "It's nice to know my sister isn't a scarlet woman who enjoys shagging." While Ron was comforted by the thought that his sister wasn't a whore, he was enraged by the thought that McLaggen had cast the spell that did this to her…to all of them. "Of course, when it's all said and done, I'm going to have to kill McLaggen!"

"Ron!" Hermione would ordinarily assume that was just a bit of mindless bluster on Ron's part, but considering how protective he was of his little sister, she wasn't sure whether he was serious or not.

"Think about it, Hermione," Ron said, his voice rising in volume, "He did this. He turned everyone into a randy bunch'a gits who only care about shagging each other!"

"The spell will wear off, Ron," Hermione said, trying to be the voice of reason.

"And then what, Hermione?" Ron asked, a bit more snappishly than he meant to, "Everyone's going to remember what happened! How do you think Ginny's going to feel when she realizes what she did…what she let happen to her…what McLaggen made her do?"

"I hadn't thought about that," Hermione admitted, blushing. She tried putting herself in Ginny's place; if it was her, and someone had used a spell to make her take part in an orgy, she'd feel completely violated. There had to be something she could do to help Ginny and her fellow Gryffindors when this was all over with. "What if…what if we made her forget? What if we made them all forget?"

"You mean Obliviate everybody?" Ron said, looking hopeful, "If anybody could do it, Hermione, I know you could. You're a bloody genius!"

Hermione blushed deeper with the praise from Ron. It was much nicer being called a genius than it was being called a know-it-all. She immediately began planning what she would need to do in order to accomplish the Obliviation of the Gryffindors; she was intent on coming through for Ron.

"I suppose I could, but getting all those people to sit still while I alter their memory isn't going to be easy."

"Couldn't we just Stun them and then Obliviate them?" Ron asked, refusing to let go of the ray of hope generated by the memory modification plan.

Hermione had the feeling that Ron was on the right track, but the execution of his plan was flawed, "I can't imagine they'd be willing to let us Stun them all, one-by-one, anymore than they'd be willing to let us Obliviate them all."

"Oh…right. Sorry," Ron said, frowning.

"No, Ron, I really do think you have the right idea," Hermione said, reaching out and running an encouraging hand up his bare arm, "We have to put them all to sleep at the same time."

"How?" Ron asked, placing his hand on top of Hermione's as she stroked his arm, "There's nearly fifteen of them and only two of us."

"I have an idea," she said excitedly as a plan formed in her head, "Stay here…I'll be right back."

Hermione started for the door then stopped suddenly. On impulse, she turned back to Ron, stood up on tiptoes and planted a quick kiss on his lips.

"Stay," she said again, blushing as she smiled prettily and hurried out the door.

Once back inside the main area of the Room of Requirement, Hermione was relieved to see her and Ron's belongings still piled on the floor where they had left them. Spotting her blouse on the floor prompted Hermione to suddenly put an arm across her chest to cover her breasts and her white cotton bra.

She felt extremely exposed, suddenly, though she hadn't felt that way in the least when it had just been herself and Ron alone in the private chamber. Hermione acted quickly to cover herself up fully, but instead of donning her own shirt, she pulled on Ron's worn flannel shirt, tingling at the feel of his clothing against her skin. His scent was on the shirt and she recognized it immediately from the Amortentia potion Professor Slughorn had introduced them to during their first Advanced Potions class.

A sudden loud moan from the center of the room drew Hermione out of her reverie, and she remembered what she was doing. Gathering up the twin bundles of clothing at her feet, Hermione dug her wand out of the pocket of her robes. She took a quick glance around the room to make sure everyone was still too busy to pay any attention to her and gasped in spite of herself at what she saw.

Ginny and Harry were nowfrantically going at it. Dean had, apparently decided to enjoy some of the other available female flesh on display. Hermione once again shook herself out of her reverie. She had to act fast and hope that McLaggen didn't catch her.

"Accio Arcane Encyclopedia!" Hermione called as quietly as she could, waving her wand to Summon the book to her.

A large, red, leather-bound tome suddenly came zooming towards her from a dark corner across the room. She caught it, sending a glance McLaggen's way to ensure she didn't see. He didn't; apparently the girl he was shagging was much more interesting than the book…at least for now.

Carrying the book and their bundled-up clothing, Hermione hurried to rejoin Ron in the private chamber the Room of Requirement had provided for them. Once inside the room, Hermione found Ron reclining back on a large scarlet-and-gold four-poster bed, and it was only then that she really took a good look at the room they were in.

The room was slightly smaller than one of the dorms in Gryffindor Tower; it was decorated in deep, rich scarlet and warm, shining gold…Gryffindor colors…giving the strange room a sense of cozy familiarity.

A comfortable-looking maroon couch sat in front of a blazing hearth, the glow from the fire providing most of the light in the room. Candles placed here-and-there throughout the room added somewhat to the light while giving off a sense of romantic ambience.

The central feature of the room was the large four-poster bed that Ron now occupied. It was at least twice the size of the beds they had in their dorms, but at the same time, it felt completely familiar with its scarlet-and-gold appointments.

They had wanted someplace private, and the Room of Requirement had given them a cozy, comfortable chamber where two Gryffindors would feel right at home.

Ron sat up when she entered and his eyes widened slightly before a broad grin spread across his face.

"You're wearing my shirt," he said as his blue eyes raked over her in a loving and appreciative fashion.

"Oh…err…yes," she nodded, blushing at the way her body tingled at the sight of a shirtless Ron in bed, "I felt the need to cover up out there."

"And you chose my shirt?" Ron's grin became lopsided and it made Hermione melt inside.

"I can take it off," Hermione said, suddenly feeling a bit awkward.

"Don't," he said, shaking his head, "At least, not yet…it looks good on you. Besides, I like the idea of you wearing my stuff; it's like it marks you as mine or something. Err…not that you're my property or anything…I just meant…you know…"

Hermione couldn't help but smile at the way he stumbled and stammered, trying to explain what he no doubt assumed she perceived as an insult. In truth, she might have gotten angry over something like that in the past, but not now…not after their mutual declaration of feelings for one another.

"I like feeling like I'm yours," she said, finally, letting him off the hook.

Her admission caused him to visibly relax, "You do? Well, in that case, I've got a couple of maroon Weasley jumpers in the bottom of my trunk that are too small for me, but would look bloody perfect on you."

"Language, Ron," Hermione said in a teasing tone, taking a few steps closer to the bed. She was trying to keep from screaming out in glee at the thought of not only receiving her very own Weasley jumper for Christmas, but of being given Ron's own jumpers…ones that he, himself, had worn…that no doubt smelled like him. Jumpers that she could wear as declaration that she belonged to Ron Weasley!

Ron obviously picked up the teasing in her tone, because he smiled cheekily at her, and for a few precious minutes they forgot about what was going on in the other room. However, when Ron noticed the large book clutched in her arms, he was brought back to the matter-at-hand.

"What's that?" he asked, nodding his head towards the book she carried.

She held the book up for Ron to see, and the gold lettering on the deep red leather cover read _Arcane Encyclopedia of Carnal Spells, Rites, Rituals, and Potions – 1862 Edition_. A smile crossed her lips and a twinkle took up residence in Hermione's warm brown eyes.

"What good is that book gonna do us?" Ron asked, confused, "McLaggen already cast the spell."

"There are other spells, Ron," Hermione said knowingly, "Some are spells that prolong endurance and stamina; other spells do the opposite."

"Huh?" he looked more confused than ever now.

"Some of these spells were developed by a very crafty witch who made a living trading sexual favors for money," Hermione explained in her best junior-McGonagall voice, knowing she could keep herself from blushing if she treated this like a technical lesson.

"You mean a prostitute, yeah?" Ron asked, moving over and patting the bed next to him.

She sat down in the spot Ron made for her and nodded her head, "Yes…she was a prostitute. And one of the spells she created caused the men she was…with…to fall asleep right after they…err…finished."

"What good is that?" Ron asked. He always thought a woman would want a man to stay awake after sex…in fact, when Bill and Charlie had The Talk with him during their summer holiday in Egypt four years ago, his older brothers had emphasized the importance of staying awake after sex in order to 'be there for her'.

"Well, you see," Hermione began, blushing as she demonstrated her knowledge of the contents of the book, "The witch who crafted the spell would use it so that she could rob the men and then escape without being caught."

"She must've been a Slytherin," Ron said, shaking his head.

"Yes, well, possibly," Hermione said, opening the book and flipping quickly to the page she was looking for, "It doesn't say what her House allegiance was when she attended Hogwarts…or even if she attended Hogwarts at all. But that's not important…what is important is that the spell is right here."

Hermione pointed at the page and Ron peered over her shoulder, his warm breath tickling her neck. She started trembling as she felt the heat from Ron's body pressing against her.

"Somno Terminus," Ron read from out of the book. He put an arm around Hermione's waist and pulled her closer so he could see the book better, "And this spell will put them all to sleep?"

"Y-yes," Hermione stuttered nervously, trying her best not to be distracted by the desire running rampant through her body for the redhead sitting next to her, "The spell is cast and whomever is in the room will fall asleep shortly after they reach their…finish."

"And then once they're asleep, we can Obliviate them," Ron said, sounding relieved and a bit excited to be getting this whole experience over with.

"Yes, exactly," Hermione nodded. She memorized the spell and the wand motion from the spellbook, "Once I've cast this spell, we can take our time and make sure everyone has had their memory altered."

"Brilliant! Let's get to it," Ron said, hopping up off the bed and padding across the floor towards the door.

"Ron, wait!" Hermione called, getting up and following him, "I should do this alone."

"What? Why?" Ron asked, looking a bit hurt that she wouldn't want his help.

"When I cast the spell, it will affect everyone in the room except the caster," Hermione explained, "And if you're out there with me, you'll be affected too."

That was the truth, but there was an ulterior motive behind Hermione wanting Ron to remain in the private room while she cast the spell; Ron was upset enough over what he'd seen his sister do with Dean, without seeing her with Harry as well.

"Alright, I'll stay behind," Ron said, "But as soon as you've cast the spell, come get me."

Hermione nodded and set her jaw determinedly; taking a deep breath, she made her way out into the Room of Requirement where the Gryffindor orgy was still going strong. She purposely avoided watching the debauchery around her, doing her best not to be distracted by what Harry, Ginny, and the other Gryffindors were doing to each other.

Taking up a position away from the writhing mass of bodies, Hermione waved her wand – once completely around her head, anti-clockwise, with two quick, sharp flicks – and cast the "Sleepy Finish" spell.

"Somno Terminus!"

A sudden wave of golden energy shot from the tip of her wand, filling the room with its golden light before dissipating…but no one seemed to notice but her. Of course, she couldn't tell if the spell had taken effect yet; she would just have to wait for the randy teenagers to start "finishing".

As soon as Hermione left to go cast the spell, Ron began looking through the book on his own, eyes bulging – along with other body parts – as he took in the moving illustrations, many of them demonstrating the effects of a particular spell. He kept imagining himself and Hermione acting out some of the more salacious illustrations, and that only increased the bulging in his jeans.

The door opened less than five minutes after Hermione had left. Hermione's return startled Ron and he blushed furiously as the book fell to the floor, landing loudly. He grabbed one of the pillows from the head of the bed and quickly covered his lap and the sizeable tent forming there.

"Err…is it…done?" he asked, trying to act like there wasn't an embarrassing erection beneath the pillow in his lap. Ron looked up and was more than a bit surprised to see Hermione carrying a tray of sweets in one hand and two bottles of butterbeer in the other.

"I cast the spell, but now we have to wait," she said, approaching the bed and handing him a drink, "This stuff seemed to be going to waste, and I thought you might feel a bit peckish."

He grinned broadly, taking an éclair off the platter she presented him. His stomach gave a tell-tale gurgle, proving Hermione correct.

"Thanks," Ron said, making room for Hermione to sit next to him on the bed. He kept the pillow in is lap however. "It has been a good six hours since dinner."

Hermione took her own éclair and began nibbling it while Ron wolfed down his first in two bites, grabbed a second éclair and a handful of chocolate biscuits, and were through them long before half of Hermione's pastry had been eaten.

"How you can eat like that and not weigh fifty stone is beyond me," she laughed, shaking her head at his ravenous appetite, "If I ate the way you do, I'd be huge."

"Mum always says you could use some fattening up," he replied with a grin. What impressed Hermione, though, was the fact that he chewed and swallowed his food before he spoke; something he rarely did in the past. "Besides, if you put on any weight, it'll just be more of you for me to oogle!"

"I think you mean 'ogle'," Hermione giggled, correcting him. She wasn't the kind of girl who giggled easily, but with Ron confessing that he ogled her, she felt as if her whole body wanted to giggle.

"Not the way I do it," Ron replied with a suggestive wink and a waggle of his eyebrows, "Anytime I slow down and let you walk in front of me, rest assured…I'm oogling you!"

"Ronald Weasley, you'd better hope I never catch you oogling my bum!" she said in mock outrage, smacking his forearm lightly.

"Your bum is perfect, Hernione," he said, taking a swig of his butterbeer, "It deserves to be oogled!"

Hermione blushed heavily and smiled demurely, looking away, "You don't really mean that…"

"'Course I do," Ron said emphatically, "Every bit of you is perfect. I figured you knew that already."

"Actually, Ron, I think I'm rather plain and unattractive," she said quietly, looking down at the floor.

"Rubbish!" he exclaimed, surprised that she could think so little of herself, "Hermione, you're beautiful! And even if nobody else notices, I do! Merlin knows I spend enough time watching you when you're not looking…"

There was a sudden clatter and crash as the tray of sweets and the two bottles of butterbeer fell to the hard, stone floor as Hermione launched herself at Ron, the pillow hiding his lap quickly joining their snacks. She kissed him hard, her hands immediately grasping for purchase within his fiery ginger locks.

Ron sat stunned for a second, but quickly caught up with what was going on around him. He eagerly returned her kiss, moaning into her mouth when her tongue sought entry into his. His hands gripped her waist for the briefest of seconds before sliding down to cup and squeeze the full, supple roundness of her bum through the material of her jeans.

Ever since they first entered the Room of Requirement with the intention of breaking up the party within, Hermione's body had been on fire. Initially, it was due to the Desirus Indomitus spell McLaggen had placed on the room, but ever since they laid claim to one another and confessed their true feelings to each other, the fire burning within the young, seventeen-year-old girl was natural and overwhelming.

She wanted Ron; judging by the hard, sensitive condition of her nipples and the very wet state of her knickers, she wanted him very, very badly. And judging by the very large bulge she could feel pressing up against her thigh, Ron wanted her as well.

Hermione felt as though she was no longer in control of her actions; her body was running completely on autopilot and she was just along for the ride. She shifted her body until Ron's hardness was pressed directly against her wet, aching center.

They each gasped from the intense pleasure and pulled away from the kiss. The gazed deeply into each other's eyes, seeing the desire they felt mirrored in their lover's eyes. Hermione straddled Ron's hips, rubbing herself against him and he growled at the back of his throat.

"'Mione!" Ron grabbed Hermione's hips and pulled her down harder against him, lifting his own hips off the bed to press his erection more firmly against her core, moaning at the pleasurable pressure.

"Ron!" Instinct directed Hermione to roll her hips and grind her aroused center into Ron for all she was worth, and that's exactly what she did. The pressure was exquisite and was hands-down the best thing she'd ever felt in her entire life.

Hermione moved back down to kiss him, missing the feeling of Ron's lips on her own, the feeling and taste of his tongue in her mouth. Ron desperately returned her kiss, his hands relinquishing their hold on her writhing hips to fist two handfuls of Hermione's bushy chestnut hair. She, too, had her hands full with hair, running her fingers over and through the soft ginger locks she had wanted to touch for so long.

The small, private room was filled with the sounds of passion – the wet smacking of lips and tongues against each other, the grunts, moans, and panting gasps of the two lovers grinding against each other – but suddenly those sounds changed.

A choked whimper escaped the back of Ron's throat and he pushed Hermione away, breaking the kiss and causing a confused, hurt expression to cross her face.

"Ron, what…?"

"Gotta stop…!" he grunted, trying to move his body out from under her, "Gotta stop…'m gonna…"

"Ron, what's wrong?"

Hermione didn't want to stop and she certainly didn't want to let Ron move away from her. She pushed down on his shoulders, trying to pin him to the bed and began grinding her bum even harder against his erection.

"'Mione, no don't—oh SHITE!"

Ron bucked up off the bed, his eyes screwing tightly shut as a strangled moan seemed to emerge from the depths of his very soul. He was sweating and his breathing was labored and his whole body trembled. And beneath her bum, Hermione could feel his erection moving…pulsing…twitching! It worried her.

"Ron…?" she said his name very softly, sounding almost afraid, "Are you alright?"

"Shite," his voice cracked and he looked away from her, the pink tint on his cheeks and ears telling her he was embarrassed, "I'm sorry, Hermione."

His voice sounded so sad and disappointed that it almost brought Hermione to tears.

"Ron, what is it? What's wrong?"

"Merlin, Hermione, do you honestly mean to tell me you don't know?" his voice was sarcastic and bitter. It reminded her of the way he got when they were fighting and he would make fun of her. She didn't like it.

"Ron, please tell me," she begged, "You're scaring me."

He looked at her finally; her eyes…her beautiful eyes…were full of worry. He reached up and caressed her cheek and she immediately pressed herself into his hand, loving the feel of him touching her.

"Don't be scared…it's nothing bad," he said, trying to reassure her, "It's just…if you had cast that spell on me, I'd be asleep now."

"What do you mean—oh! OH!" Hermione blushed deeply but there was a mischievous grin spreading across her lips…lips that were red and swollen from kissing him, "I suppose I should apologize, but I can't help feeling a bit proud of myself for making you…err…'come undone'."

"Undone or not," he laughed, more comfortable with the situation now that he knew she wasn't repulsed by what happened, "You definitely made me come."

"Ron!" she gasped, scandalized that he would say such a thing to her, "I can't believe you said that! OH!" Hermione suddenly jumped up off of Ron and the bed and started for the door.

"Where are you going?" Ron called after her, sitting up and feeling a bit lightheaded.

"You're very distracting, Ron," she said with a smile, "I forgot about the spell; I need to see if it's taken affect yet."

"Wait…I'll come with you," he said, struggling to get up.

Hermione smirked at Ron's unintentional double-entendre; she never would have thought of such a benign phrase as having a double meaning before tonight…but now everything was different.

When Ron finally managed to get off the bed without swooning from lack of blood to the brain, and padded over to join her, she aimed her wand at the front of his denims and cast a quick, wordless spell.

"What was that for?" he squeaked, not liking the idea of anyone firing spells at his bits.

"Just thought I'd clean up your…spill," she said, blushing a bit, "Since I did cause it."

"Thanks," he replied, blushing a bit himself, "I hate sticking to my pants."

She laughed and grabbed his hand, "Come on, Ronald…we've got a bunch of memories to un-make!"

Half-an-hour and many Obliviation spells later, Hermione and Ron were standing in the Room of Requirement surrounded by two dozen unconscious, naked Gryffindors who would never remember their night of spell-induced debauchery.

"That's it, then," Hermione said triumphantly, "Everyone has been Obliviated; they won't remember a thing about tonight."

"Good," Ron said grimly. He looked down at the sleeping form of Cormac McLaggen, using the breasts of a naked seventh year as a pillow.

Gritting his teeth, Ron reared back and kicked the seventh year boy hard in the stomach. McLaggen grunted and curled into a ball from the pain of the attack, but remained asleep thanks to the spell.

"Ron! Stop it!" Hermione screamed, running to his side, grabbing his arm and pulling him away roughly, "What are you doing?"

"I want to hurt him, Hermione," Ron said dully, his eyes still locked on McLaggen's unconscious form, "He deserves to be hurt…bad. You saw what his pervy spell did to her; he turned my baby sister into a scarlet woman!"

Hermione felt bad for Ron; after tonight, he would never be able to look at his little sister the same way again. Hermione knew…thanks to long nights filled with girl-talk at the Burrow, around Grimauld Place, and in the school dorms…that Ginny wasn't a sweet, innocent virgin, and hadn't been since she'd started dating Dean.

Of course, Ron didn't know that; he, no doubt thought tonight was her first time and that she wasn't thoroughly experienced with everything she had done under the influence of the Desirus Indomitus spell. Hermione was not about to disillusion him, since doing so would only hurt him. She cared too much for Ron to do that to him.

"Ron, why don't you go back into the other room and get dressed while I clean up in here a bit," Hermione suggested softly, rubbing her hand in soothing circles over his bare back.

"Yeah, alright," he agreed, sounding small and defeated. He moved away from Hermione without another word and entered the private chamber, closing the door quietly behind him.

Hermione immediately moved to Ginny's side and used her wand to clean the redheaded girl up. She knew Ron would never view Ginny the same, but Hermione, too, would have a hard time looking at Ginny and not seeing her enthusiastically pleasuring first Dean and then Harry.

Once Ginny was as clean as magic could get her, Hermione used her wand to Summon the girl's clothes and dressed her…though it was rather difficult with Ginny being unconscious and not the tiniest bit helpful.

When that was done, Hermione glanced around and sighed. "One down, fourteen to go," she said to herself. She was hit by the sudden realization of the flaws in their plan. Hermione had no desire to dress the remaining naked, sleeping Gryffindors after cleaning them of the various fluids covering their bodies. A further flaw reared its ugly head when Hermione tried to think of how to move fifteen sleeping students out of the Room of Requirement, down the corridor to Gryffindor Tower, through the portrait hole, and then up to their various dorms; all without getting caught.

"It's impossible!" Hermione cried.

"What's impossible?"

Hermione jumped at the sound of the voice behind her. She turned quickly to see Ron standing there, looking rather sheepish.

"Ron…you scared me!"

"Sorry," he said, blushing, "You were taking so long…I got lonely."

Getting Ginny cleaned up and dressed had obviously taken longer than Hermione thought. Still, the thought that Ron had missed her company and had come looking for her made her smile.

"I'm sorry I'm taking so long, Ron, I just don't know how were going to get everyone back to their dorms. That's what's impossible."

Ron looked around at the naked, sleeping students, purposely avoiding the redheaded girl lying in the corner of the room. Moving them all did seem impossible.

"Shame we can't just Apparate them back."

"Ron, I told you before," Hermione began, clucking her tongue at him, "You can't Apparate on school grounds; it says so in -…"

"Hogwarts, A History," Ron interrupted with a wry grin, "Yeah, I know."

Hermione blushed. She must have told him that a hundred times if she told him once. He remembered, though, and didn't tease her about it. That's all that mattered to her.

"I wasn't suggesting we try it," Ron explained, "We don't even know how to Apparate yet…but what about the house-elves?"

"What about them?" Hermione asked archly.

"Well they can Apparate inside the school," he continued his explanation, "And what about the way they move all the food from the kitchens to the tables in the Great Hall?"

"I see what you're saying, but do you think they'd help us?" she asked, "I'm not very popular with the house-elves, after all. They didn't appreciate my attempts to liberate them."

"You're popular with Dobby," Ron said with a grin, "Merlin knows he's always keen to help out Harry Potter and his friends."

Hermione smiled at Ron; a genuine, appreciative smile. He could have chosen to tease her about the failure of her Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare (SPEW), but instead he was kind and supportive. She was definitely liking the new direction their relationship was heading.

"I'd hate to ask Dobby for help," she said, "But under the circumstances…"

Ron nodded, and on the count of three, the two teens yelled the house-elf's name together.

"Dobby!"

There was a sudden crack echoing throughout the room and a short little creature appeared with floppy, bat-like ears, bulging green tennis-ball-sized eyes, and a long, thin nose. He was dressed in an old, shrunken maroon jumper and a pair of mismatched socks.

"Harry Potter's Wheezy and Hermy!" Dobby exclaimed in his high-pitched voice, jumping up and down in excitement, "What can Dobby do for the most loyal and true friends of the Great Harry Potter?"

"We need a favor, Dobby," Ron said, smiling brightly at the accommodating house-elf.

"Anything for Harry Potter's Wheezy!" Dobby gushed, "Anything at all!"

Ron and Hermione exchanged a look and a smile.

In short order and in no small part thanks to Dobby and his house-elf magic, the unconscious Gryffindors had been cleaned up, dressed, and moved en masse to their individual beds through the use of house-elf Apparition. The excitable house-elf was more than happy to help, especially when saw that one of the students he was helping get to bed was the Great Harry Potter himself!

Ron paid Dobby for his services by giving him the very socks off his large, pale, freckled feet. The elf was, of course, extremely grateful to "Harry Potter's bestest Wheezy-Wheezy", despite the fact that the socks were identical instead of a 'proper', mismatched pair.

When Dobby finally left, after singing Ron's praises over-and-over and embarrassing the redhead greatly, Ron turned to find Hermione gazing at him with a strange look in her eyes and an even stranger smile on her lips.

"What?" Ron asked, feeling slightly uncomfortable with her scrutiny.

"That was really sweet of you," Hermione said, taking a step closer to him, "Dobby would have helped us without payment, but you gave him your socks anyway."

"Well, it wasn't money or anything," Ron replied, shrugging, "But Dobby likes socks; they're his favorite. Besides, I didn't think you'd want me asking Dobby for help without giving him some form of payment."

"Under the circumstances," Hermione sighed, "I think I'd have made an exception…just this once, mind you."

"Well, as Treasurer for Ess-Pee-Ee-Double-yew," Ron said, grinning lopsidedly as he spelled out the organization's initials instead of calling it 'spew' for the first time he could ever remember, "I have a responsibility to promote the best interests of house-elves everywhere…and that includes paying free-elves for services rendered."

Hermione beamed at him. She knew he probably didn't really believe what he had just said, but the fact remained that he did pay Dobby for his help and he was going out of his way to try and make her happy. Oh, how she wanted him right now.

She stepped up to him, put her arms around his neck and kissed him deeply. He kissed her back and within seconds, they were swept up in a frantic snogging session where neither one could seem to get enough of the other.

Several minutes passed before Hermione pulled away from Ron, gasping for breath. Her face was red and her hair was a mess from Ron's fingers moving through it. The shirt she wore – Ron's shirt – was unbuttoned and wide-open, exposing her heaving breasts and the white bra that encased them. She didn't recall Ron opening the shirt, but she definitely remembered his hands on her nearly-bare breasts.

"Oh, Ron," she cooed, when she was finally sure that her voice wouldn't fail her, "I love you so much. Something tells me I'm going to look back on this night as the best night of my life…at least for a long time to come."

Hermione smiled at Ron, and although he smiled back, it didn't reach his eyes. In fact, his deep blue eyes seemed to be clouded and troubled.

"Ron…what is it? What's wrong?" she asked, reaching out for him. When Ron backed up out of her reach and turned away from her, Hermione's stomach sank and she immediately felt tears prick her eyes. "Ron…?"

Her voice came out as a choked sob and he visibly stiffened at the sound. When he finally turned back to face her, he couldn't look her in the eye.

"Hermione…I need you to do something for me," Ron said, his voice quiet and emotionless.

"Anything," Hermione replied quickly, reaching out and taking his hand. He didn't pull away, but he still wouldn't look at her, "Tell me what you want, Ron, and I'll do it! Anything at all!"

"I need you to Obliviate me." Ron looked up at her and his eyes were full of pain and desperation, as if this were the hardest decision he'd ever had to make.

"What?" she gasped, unable to believe what he was asking of her.

"I can't take it, Hermione," he said, his voice cracking, "I can't face my little sister anymore. I keep picturing what she was doing…what she was having done to her! I can't even imagine facing Harry again, either…not after what I saw."

"The spell made them do that, Ron," Hermione said, unable to believe how quickly her happiness was turning into pain and sorrow, "The spell made all of them act that way. But they won't even remember acting that way now."

"No…they get to forget," Ron said bitterly, "They get to go on with their lives like nothing happened, but I…we…have to remember every bit of it. I don't want to remember!"

"Ron, you don't understand," Hermione sobbed desperately, "I'm not skilled enough with memory charms to remove selected pieces of your memory. When I Obliviated the others, I removed the entire night from their memory…they won't remember anything that happened after dinner in the Great Hall."

"That's fine," Ron nodded, not seeming to get her point.

"Ron…you'll forget everything about tonight!" she cried, trembling, "Our patrol…the things we talked about…what we did when we entered the Room of Requirement and McLaggen's spell started affecting us…what we confessed to each other in the private room…you'll forget all of it! We'd go back to being just friends instead of…whatever…we are now!"

"I know," he said, looking down at his feet, guilt washing over him, "You'd remember, though. You'd know that I love you and I want you. You could tell me how you feel…get me to confess again."

"I don't think I could do that, Ron," she said, her voice sounding small and sad, "What happened tonight…the unique set of circumstances that led us to admit our feelings for each other…I can't recreate that."

"No, you can't," he admitted, "But you know I love you now…you didn't before. That should give you the courage to tell me how you feel."

"You're asking too much of me, Ron," she sobbed, "I can't just blurt that out, not without knowing for certain how you'd react."

"You know how I'll react, Hermione!" he countered, "I'll tell you I love you, too!"

"What if something goes wrong?" she asked, grasping desperately at the chance she could convince him not to go through with this, "What if…what if some other girl starts snogging you before I have a chance to tell you?"

He snorted derisively at the thought of someone else wanting to snog him. "Hermione, what in the name of Merlin could drive me to snog some other girl when you and I have a date next week?"

"We could have a row!" she suggested since it wasn't unheard of for the two of them to get into a real ripper of an argument, "We could have a nasty row and you could…seek solace…in the arms…and lips…of another girl!"

"Listen to yourself, Hermione," Ron laughed, "Do you know how bad you'd have to hurt me for me to 'seek solace' in some other girl?"

"We've had nasty rows before, Ron," Hermione reminded him, "And they've led to us not talking for months. Remember Third Year? Please don't ask me to do this, Ron; not now…not when we've come so far…not when we're so close!"

"Hermione, please…" Ron stepped up and took her in his arms, "We'll get close again…even closer than we are now. I promise!"

"Don't," Hermione said, pulling away from him, "Don't make promises that you don't know that you can keep."

"I can keep this one, Hermione," he replied emphatically, trying his best to convince her, "Obliviate me and then as soon as you're done, tell me you love me! Everything will work out fine!"

Hermione was unconvinced and tears poured from her eyes. She knew something would go wrong; it always did. There was always something that came along to prevent them from getting together…whether it was a fight between a cat and a rat, a Bulgarian Seeker, or Ron's unwillingness to stand up to his brothers when they broke the rules.

She knew tonight was a perfect storm…a confluence of bizarre events that pushed them together for once instead of pulling them apart. Hermione knew, in her heart-of-hearts, that it would take some earth-shattering event to push them together again after tonight. She could almost picture them on the field of battle…the final battle…finally admitting their feelings lest they die with anything unsaid between them.

She would not be able to make it. Everything she wanted was slipping between her fingers. She would need something to tide her over, something to remember Ron by until the next perfect storm drew them together.

"Ron," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper, "If I do this for you…there's something I want you to do for me, first."

"Anything, luv," he said with a smile, "Just name it."

Hermione looked up at him, her jaw set determinedly, her eyes full of conflicting emotions. She took a deep breath and when she spoke her voice was firm and unwavering.

"Make love to me."


	4. Part Three – Loving You

**Part Three – "Loving You"**

He didn't say no. How could he say no? There was no way in Hell that he could refuse Hermione this when he, too, wanted it so very much. Making love to Hermione was a dream- come-true for Ron.

They had moved back into the private chamber that the Room of Requirement had provided for them, moving nervously and awkwardly to the large bed. Hermione had divested herself of Ron's shirt and they were now lying together on the bed, Ron topless and she nearly so.

Exposing her lush, bra-clad breasts to Ron had him cupping and squeezing them desperately, as if he were afraid they were going to disappear. His thumbs brushed over the peaks of her hard nipples through the material of her bra, causing Hermione to moan into his mouth.

"Ron…!" she groaned, pulling away just enough to speak in a hoarse whisper, "I love the way you touch me."

Ron grinned when she said that, and it encouraged him to touch her more fully. He reached around behind her and struggled with the clasps on her bra. Unable to get them undone, he settle for tugging down the cups of her bra, allowing her full, round breasts to spill free, giving him his first unfettered view of the pink-tipped wonders.

"God, Hermione," Ron spoke in a voice full of awed reverence, "You've got great tits…err…I mean…breasts! You've got great breasts!"

Hermione smiled when he blushed over what he'd said. She leaned in and kissed him deeply, moaning into his mouth as his large, calloused hands cupped her breasts, feeling the weight of them in his hands before playing with them like a child with a new toy.

Hermione pulled away from him when she needed to come up for air, breaking the kiss but keeping him in contact with her breasts, and gazing lovingly…and longingly…into Ron's cobalt-blue eyes.

"Tell you what, Ron," she said, caressing his cheek tenderly, "You don't have to obey Rule #1 whenever you and I are alone and being intimate like this."

"Yeah?" he looked at her with a hopeful grin on his face, and when she nodded her head, confirming that she really did mean it, he laughed happily, "In that case, Hermione, I stand by my earlier statement: you've got great tits!"

Hermione laughed, but it quickly turned into a lustful moan as Ron pinched both her nipples at the same time, watching with rapt attention as the pink buds stiffened even more under his touch. Not even realizing what she was doing, Hermione wrapped her leg around Ron's and began grinding her hot center against his firm thigh, her mind overcome with lust.

"Oh God, Ron!"

Ron's eyes widened as Hermione continued to move against him. He couldn't believe this was his Hermione behaving this way. "His Hermione." He liked the sound of that, and was intent on making her his completely before the night was through.

Hermione's nipples were achingly stiff when Ron moved his head down and trapped one of the turgid peaks between his lips, sucking and flicking his tongue against the sensitive bud.

"Ron!" Hermione gasped, her whole body on fire. She arched against him, pressing her breasts more fully into his face, not wanting him to stop…never wanting him to stop.

Ron had both hands full of Hermione's breasts, and he began rolling the nipple he wasn't busy devouring between his thumb and forefinger, pinching and tugging on it lightly, driven on by Hermione's gasps and moans and the increased pace of her rubbing her center against him.

He switched breasts, latching his mouth around the un-sucked nipple and using his fingers to tease the one that was swollen from the things his lips, teeth, and tongue had done to it. Ron nearly bit her nipple off when Hermione reached down and squeezed his prominent hard-on through his denims.

"Merlin's balls, Hermione!" Ron shouted as she pressed the heel of her hand against his erection and began running it up-and-down his length as it extended down his trouser leg.

"Like that, do you?" Hermione asked, grinning wickedly as she gazed at him with lust-glazed eyes, "Shall I continue, then?"

"Fuck yes!" he growled, bucking his hips up at her, trying desperately to increase the pressure and friction provided by her hand.

"Tsk, tsk…language, Ronald," she purred teasingly, leaning in and licking one of his nipples as she continued to rub him slowly.

"I'll give you fucking language, you wanton witch!" Ron growled again, moving quickly and shifting them on the bed until she was sprawled on her back, her legs splayed wide and he was kneeling between them.

Hermione's face was a mask of lust, and Ron's face mirrored hers completely. She looked perfect to Ron, and Hermione thought the same of him. Neither could imagine any other living soul they would rather be with…no one they would rather give themselves to.

"I wanted to take my time," Ron said, his voice thick with lust, picking up his wand from where it lay entwined with her own, "But…fuck, Hermione…you've got me so randy…so out of my mind…I need you, 'Mione…I need you now!"

"Me, too, Ron," she said, reaching out and running her hands over the planes of his stomach, "Take me, Ron…make me yours."

Ron locked eyes with Hermione and nodded. Waving his wand and speaking in barely a whisper, he Banished the rest of their clothes into a messy pile on the floor, leaving them both completely bare.

Ron ran his eyes down the length of Hermione's body, unable to believe what he was seeing. Hermione. Naked. It was something he'd been dreaming of for quite some time now, and the reality of it was even better than every single one of his dreams put together.

"So beautiful," he said in a reverent whisper. He noticed a sudden blush overtake her body, and when he looked up to face her again, she averted her eyes in embarrassment.

"I'm not," she said, refusing to meet his gaze. Beautiful was the last thing she thought her body was. Ron's hand cupped her chin gently and turned her face until their eyes locked again.

"I told you before, Hermione…you…are…beautiful," his voice was deep and husky when he spoke, and it sent tingles throughout her body. She felts tears rising as she gazed deeply into his cobalt eyes and realized that, whether it was true or not, Ron really did believe that she was beautiful.

Hermione wrapped her arms around Ron's neck and pulled him down to her, engulfing his mouth in a heartfelt kiss. She could feel Ron's naked form pressing against her own for the first time ever, and it was a feeling she never wanted to end. Her entire body was on fire at the exquisite feeling of Ron's body pressing her down into the mattress. When they finally broke the kiss, Hermione could feel Ron's erection pressing insistently against her thigh, and she knew that it was time.

"Now, Ron," she said, gazing up into his deep blue eyes, "Take me now."

"Now?" he exclaimed nervously, suddenly unsure of whether or not he was ready, "But…what about…you know…the before stuff?"

"You mean foreplay?" she asked with a loving smile, reaching up to caress his cheek.

"Yeah," he nodded, looking concerned, "Bill and Charlie said it's important to do the before stuff because girls don't get off the regular way."

"Well…yes, it's true that girls don't usually orgasm from intercourse at first…" she admitted hesitantly, not wanting to scare Ron off.

"I want you to enjoy it, Hermione," he said, starting to sound a bit frantic, "I don't want to seem like some selfish prat who only cares about his own pleasure."

Her heart swelled with love and she threw her arms around him, hugging him tightly, "Oh, Ron, you're not! I know you're not. The fact that it will be you and me together for the first time will be enjoyable enough, even if I don't have an orgasm."

"It's going to hurt you, isn't it?" Ron said, frowning, remembering yet another thing his brothers had told him about having sex with a girl for the first time.

"Yes," Hermione sighed, worried that Ron was going to change his mind.

"I don't want to hurt you," he said, starting to pull away from her, "Isn't there something in that sex spellbook we can use so that it doesn't hurt you?"

"There is," she nodded, "But I don't want to use it."

"What? Why not?" he asked. If he could spare her even an ounce of pain he wanted to do it.

"I want our first time to be pure," she replied, "I want it to be about you and me and our love for each other…even if it hurts at first."

Ron leaned down and kissed her deeply, and Hermione could tell that she had convinced him.

"I love you, Hermione," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. He looked very serious, and she knew it was time.

"I love you, too, Ron. Are you ready?" she asked.

Ron replied with a nod and Hermione reached between them, taking hold of his erect member for the first time. Her hand tingled from the contact, and she could feel Ron trembling above her. She stroked up and down his length a few times before placing the tip at her entrance.

"I'm ready, Ron," she said in a husky voice as their eyes locked, "Take me…make me yours."

They gazed deeply into each others eyes and Ron pushed forward until he met resistance. He backed up slightly and pushed in again until the resistance gave way. The pain was over rather quickly, and before either of them realized it, they were joined together.

Ron stopped moving as soon as he was fully inside her in order to calm down and keep himself from losing control, and Hermione was glad for the break. The only thing she'd ever had inside her before was her fingers, and Ron was much bigger; she needed time to adjust to his size.

Soon enough, though, she felt the burning desire inside herself overtake the pain, and she wanted him to move. Wrapping her arms and legs around him, Hermione spurred Ron into motion.

"Make love to me, Ron," she gasped as he started pumping in and out of her.

"Fuck, Hermione," he groaned as her tight, wet heat enveloped him.

Hermione was tempted to scold him for his language, as she had on so many other occasions, but she couldn't bring herself to do it; not when she, herself, was thinking sentiments along those exact same lines.

The pain and discomfort she had felt upon his initial entry and during her period of adjustment to him faded into a numbness of sorts, but behind that numb feeling she could detect a definite hint of pleasure almost beyond her reach.

The more Ron moved, pumping in and out of her, inexpertly though it was, the closer the pleasure came to within her grasp, and before she realized what she was doing, Hermione was arching up to meet Ron's every thrust, moving in time with the rhythm he had established.

Ron was shaking all over as his senses were overwhelmed by Hermione. He wanted to say something, to tell her how amazing she felt, how incredible it was to finally be inside her…to be one with her. Unfortunately, the only thoughts he could manage to form into words were "hot", "tight", and "wet", so he chose instead to attack her mouth, kissing her hungrily.

They devoured each other's mouths as their bodies moved together in harmony. His movements had been unsure at first, but now instinct and pure desire had taken over. They were moving in perfect synch, and he could feel his orgasm quickly approaching. He didn't want to come yet, but he knew there was no way he could hold off.

"'Mione…'m sorry," he panted, his arms trembling as he held himself over her, "Gonna…gonna come…!"

"It's okay, Ron," she moaned, squeezing herself more tightly around him as his thrusts became jerky and disjointed, "Don't hold back."

Even though she was past the pain and numbness and was now fully enjoying the pleasure of making love to Ron, Hermione knew she wouldn't reach her climax. She could feel that it was just too far away. For now, she would take pleasure in being able to give pleasure to Ron.

With a few more uncoordinated thrusts and a loud warbling groan, Ron came, emptying himself inside of Hermione's hot, wet depths. He wrapped his arms tightly around her and whispered words of love and devotion in her ear as he came down from his climax.

"Love you…love you so much…my 'Mione."

"I love you, too, Ron," Hermione replied, "So very much."

He rolled off of her onto his side, pulling her to him. She went willingly, snuggling into him and running her hands over his sweaty flesh as they lay there enjoying the afterglow of their first time.

"You were amazing," he said breathlessly, gazing lovingly into her eyes.

"So were you," she replied, smiling.

"Did it hurt a lot?" Ron asked, concerned. His brothers' words kept echoing in his head about how girls will bleed and hurt when they lose their virginity. Hurting Hermione was the one thing he hated doing most of all, especially now that they were together.

"It hurt some, but I'll live through it," Hermione admitted, not wanting to make him feel bad. The pain she had felt was inevitable, after all.

"I'm sorry," he said, frowning, "I'm sorry that I hurt you and I'm sorry that you didn't come and I'm sorry that it was over so quick and I'm sorry that –"

She put her fingers over his lips, stopping him from apologizing. "Stop, Ron. It was lovely…it was wonderful. Don't apologize for anything that happened when we made love…okay?"

He nodded, but said nothing as her fingers were still on his lips. He did kiss her fingers in response though and when Hermione pulled her hand away, he leaned in and kissed her lips.

"You're mine now, you know," he said, gazing into her eyes.

"I am," she agreed, "And you're mine."

"Forever and always," he replied, kissing her forehead and pulling her closer to him so she could rest her head in the crook of his neck.

"Forever and always," she echoed, closing her eyes and revealing in the warmth of their love.


	5. Part Four – The End or the Beginning?

**Part Four – "The End or the Beginning?"**

Hermione awoke with a start. She hadn't meant to doze off, but lying in Ron's arms, in the afterglow of making love for the first time, she had slipped off into sleep without even realizing it. Even now, Ron's long arms were encircling her and his warm body was pressed up snugly against her back, and the last thing she wanted to do was get up. But she had to. It was only a couple hours from sunrise now, and she and Ron still needed to return to Gryffindor Tower; but before they could do that, she had a promise to keep.

A dreadful, horrible promise that was breaking her heart even as she thought about it. Tears fell from her eyes as she pried herself out of Ron's arms and got out of bed. She picked up her wand from the nightstand where it sat, nestled against Ron's own wand much the way the two of them had laid nestled together as they slept.

Turning back to face the bed, she was struck by how peaceful and beautiful Ron looked, lying there, oblivious to what she was about to do as he slept. Hermione wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of her life gazing at the scene before her, but she knew that she might not be able to. By going through with what she was about to do, she was risking her future with Ron.

"He asked me to do this," she said to herself, raising her wand with trembling fingers, "He practically begged me to."

Ron wanted her to Obliviate him, and if she was going to do it, she had to do it now. There was no way she could do it if he were awake, looking at her with those beautiful blue eyes. She would lose what little nerve she had, and she would throw herself at his feet and beg him to change his mind if that what it took. Anything to preserve what they'd shared tonight.

"It's now or never," she said, tears pouring down her cheeks, as she leaned over the bed and aimed her wand at Ron's forehead. "Obliviaaaaaaaaah!"

Hermione screamed as Ron's hand shot up from the bed and slapped her hand away, knocking her wand free and sending it clattering to the floor somewhere across the room. His eyes shot open and he grabbed her hands, pulling her down onto the bed next to him.

"Ron!" Hermione exclaimed, trying to recover from the shock of what just happened.

"Don't," Ron said, looking deep into her eyes, "Don't take tonight away from me."

"But, Ron, you asked me to," she said, reminding him of the promise he forced her to make, "You told me to erase your memory."

"I changed my mind," he said, letting go of her hand and reaching up to run his fingers through her wild chestnut mane, "I don't ever want to forget what you and I shared tonight…even if it means remembering all the rest."

"But what about Ginny…and Harry?" she asked, moving her hand to slide along his chest and rest over his heart.

"I'll just have to find a way to deal with it," he said determinedly, "You'll help me won't you?"

"Of course, Ron," she said, nodding emphatically, "I'll do anything for you."

He smiled, bringing her hand to his lips and kissing it. "Good to know. I do have one question, though."

"What is it?" she asked.

"I know we're supposed to be tucked away in our beds in the Gryffindor dormitories right now, but we don't have classes in the morning…so I was wondering…"

"Yes?"

"Fancy another go?"

"Ronald Weasley, you are incorrigible!" she exclaimed, slapping him playfully on the arm.

"That's not a 'no'," he said, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"No, I suppose it isn't. Where'd I put that book?"

* * *

ykickamoocow111 - That is the end of this story. I hope you enjoyed it as i am certain that BlackHawk13 enjoyed writing it. In fact i know with certainty that he had a lot of fun writing this story. It has always been a story that i have loved but to be honest it makes me a little sad knowing by friend Joseph (BlackHawk13) dissappeared. I would like nothing more though than for one day for my fears to be proven unfounded and for him to return as he was a very good writer and more importantly a very nice person.


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